


Heart reading

by BleedingBishop



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 04:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingBishop/pseuds/BleedingBishop
Summary: This was origonally written to be entered as part of the Valentine Day calendar ( http://archiveofourown.org/collections/mystradevalentinescalendar )  but I missed the deadline. Ah well, you all did wonderfully so I'll post this when the calendar is finished :)Thanks for reading





	Heart reading

“Mum?” Haley Lestrade looked up from her book.

“Yes, love?” He son walked into her study, fresh from his Saturday visit to the city library, and plonked himself on the antique chair sitting by her window.

“What do you know about horses?”

“Horses? Why?”

“I need to know about them.”

“O...Kay? What do you need to know about them?”

“Uh… Dunno.” Greg stood again and walked over to stand by his Mum at her desk.

“That’s helpful, love.” She laughed, ruffling his hair. Greg giggled.

“Um, Like, do horses have sweets?”

“Sweets?”

“Yeah, like I eat too many strawberry laces. And you tell me off. But horses don't eat them, so what do they eat?”

“Carrots I suppose. As far as i’m aware, fresh crunchy fruit like apples are also nice for them.”

“Yeah? Thank you!” Greg kissed her cheek and ran off.

“What are you doing?” Haley called, but her hurricane of a child had already left. She shook her head and went back to her book. She’d figure it out soon enough.

….

“Greg? I’m going to the shops, do you want anything?” Gabriel called up the stairs. The sound of quick steps echoed from the nearest bedroom, and Greg appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Can I come?”

“Sorry, Greg - going straight to Lou’s after. Do you want me to pick up some strawberry laces?”

“Yeah! Uh, NO! Uh, I need to have some pink and yellow hard sweets with sugar on them.” Gabriel frowned.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

“Do you even know what they are called?”

“Uh, no. But I need a packet.”

“... I’ll get some laces as well.” Greg grinned

“Thanks Dad!” The boy vanished back into him room, and Gabriel sighed. 

‘Kids.’

….

“Sir?”

“Yes, Greg?” Mr Stants looked up from his planner and nodded for him to enter the classroom. The boy strode in with his usual bouncing energy, and swayed from foot to foot.

“You okay Greg?” 

“Yeah. What was that book you gave Clara?” Mr Stants frowned as he tried to remember the past week.

“A word search.”

“Like the ones you give us at lunch?”

“Yeah, but it’s for adults.”

“Awesome! Where do I get one?” He watched his teacher stand and dip into the cupboard behind his desk, shuffling around before coming out with two small, thick books.

“You can have one of these if you like. They’re pretty cheep so you could ask someone at home to get you some more.”

“Yeah, thanks - What are they about?”

“This one is about animals, and this one is about countries.”

“Cool, which one would a clever person want?” Mr Stants laughed.

“What are they clever about?”

“Uh, clever people stuff. Space. Clever people read about space.” Stants held out the pink, flag covered book and grinned as Greg took it from him like Gollum in H M Samuels.

“Thanks Mr Stants.” 

“Sure Greg. Enjoy.” He laughed out loud as the boy scampered off.

….

“Daisy? Can I speak to Clara please?” The girl look out of her shed window to see Greg Lestrade from school. She turned back to the rest of her gang and asked.

“Greg Lestrade is outside, do you want to speak to him?”

“Yeah, okay.” Clara said and stood from her bean bag, as Daisy turned back to the window.

“She’s coming out.”

“Thanks Daisy.”

Clara left the shed and nodded at him.

“What’s up Greg?”

“You’re really clever, so I need you to tell me what clever people like.”

“Huh?”

“What do clever people like to do?”

“...Read books?”

“Yeah, but like what else?”

“I don't know Greg. Book things? Why are you asking? Is this for Valentines day?”

“Uh, n-no, Im just asking.”

“Uh huh. Is she cute?”

“It’s not for anyone!” Clara turned from him to call back into the shed of girls.

“Greg has a crush!” The squeal of gossiping girls echoed through the wood.

“CLARA I DON'T HAVE A CRUSH THATS GROSS!” Greg yelled, and ran off, leaving Clara in hysterics.

….

“Ugh.” Gabriel and Haley stopped gossiping about the neighbours new dog and watched their son splump into the kitchen, dropping his his school bag on the floor in the hall. He pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table.

“What is it?”

“They are doing Valentines at school for tomorrow, and everyone is really excited. I don’t want to give anyone a Valentine at school.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but if someone gives me one, I’ll feel bad that I didn’t at least give someone else one.”

Gabriel smiled as Haley nodded.

“Understandable.” She said.

“Why don’t we go get a box of them from somewhere now, you can fill them in and give one to each of them so no one feels left out?” Greg looked up from frowning at the table.

“But my Valentine wouldn’t be there. If I had one.” 

“So? Friendship Valentines exist.” 

“Really? Aw, that's nice. Can we do that please?”

“Sure. Love, do you want me to pick anything up?”

“I don’t think so, after all, you’re buying me lots of treats for tomorrow. I can wait.” Haley said simply, and smiled at Gabriel’s eye roll.

“Change your clothes, Greg, and we’ll leave.” Greg nodded and jumped off his chair to run to the stairs.

“No running in the house!” Both of them called, shaking their heads - that boy was too energetic for his own good.

….

“So, what kind of cards do you wanna get?” 

“These don’t have “I love you” on them.” Greg held up a box of cute emoji cards.

“Good. Real Valentines at your age should all be handmade.”

“Really? I thought you had to buy them. Everyone at school says that handmade ones are cheap.”

“No, you never throw away a handmade Valentines card. Taking the time to make one by hand means much more than just buying one from the shops.”

“Oh right. Hey, Dad, can we get some craft card and some pens?” Gabriel smiled to himself.

“Why? I thought you didn’t have a Valentine?”

“I don’t! I don’t... but you do and so you need to make one. Also, we need more apples.”

“Apples?” 

Yeah. Nice shiny ones like from fairy tales.”

“Sure, Greg. Lets get some pens and some apples.”

“I need card, too.”

“And some card.” He echoed.

….

“Uh, Dad? Could we get some roses? F-for Mum?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Dad, these ones look nice too.”

“I thought you wanted to get a bouquet? The single roses look nice too, though.”

“Could we, like, get a bunch for Mum and a single one as well?”

“What for?”

“I dunno, reasons.”

“... Yeah sure, Greg. Make sure the single one is perfect, okay?”

“Yeah, it’s gotta be perfect.”

….

“He’s in the office.” Gabriel murmured, getting back into bed. Haley hummed sleepily.

“What’s he doing there?”

“Making a Valentine’s card for someone.”

“Aw, that’s cute. Did he tell you who she was?”

“Nah. Kept saying he didn’t have one at school but he totally does.”

“Do you have a Valentine?”

“No,” Gabriel sighed dramatically, and scooped Haley into his arms “, couldn’t afford her after I bought all your stuff.”

“I’m sure she’s heartbroken.” She chuckled.

“I’ll ask her next week when we run away together.”

“And where are you two eloping?”

“Barbados.”

“Oh, lovely.”

“I’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

….

“How was school? Did you get any cards?”

“Can you take me to the library?” Greg asked quickly.

“Library? It’s a weekday, no.”

“Mum, Please. I need to go. I have to go today!” Greg’s eyes watered, and Haley stopped cutting the hard boiled eggs on the chopping board.

“Why.”

“I just… I need to go today.”

“Greg, is there something wrong?” She stepped away and crouched in front of her son.

“No, I just need to go to the library today. Please, it’s important.” Greg closed his eyes and Haley saw his shoulders slump forward.

“Is it really important?” Greg ‘s head snapped up, eyes wide with earnest desperation. 

“Yeah. It really is.” Haley sighed.

“Okay. Just this once, okay? Get changed, and we’ll go before dinner.”

“THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!” Greg threw his arms around his Mum before sprinting up the stairs.

“Don’t run up the stairs!”

….

“What’s the backpack for?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re dressed very nicely though - very handsome.”

“Really?” Greg said excitedly.

“Uh huh.” She turned into the small car park, pulling up by the wide double doors of the city library. Greg uncliped his buckle, and picked up the full backpack and opened the door. Haley made to open her own, but Greg turned to her quickly. 

“You don’t have to come in.”

“And why don’t you want me to come in?”

“I-It’s not that, I just don't want you to come in if you don’t want too.”

“That’s nice of you, Greg. I’ll stay in the car for 10 minutes, but if you stay too long… doing whatever you are doing, I’ll have to come in so I’m not too bored, okay?”

“Yeah, Mum. I’ll see you in a bit.” He hopped out and closed the car door, and Haley pulled out her phone to message her husband.

‘Taken greg to the library. I think hes got a date.’

‘Really? Is he dressed up cute?’

‘Love hes wearing his outfit he wears to your mums. Bow tie and all.’

‘If you dont take a picture of him and this girl i will divorce you.’

‘Ive given him 10 mins and then im coming in. greg can talk the ear off the bfg theyll be fine.’

….

Greg walked in through the automatic doors and breathed in deeply, before yawning and rubbing his eyes.  
He’d been up late last night, trying to make a card to go with his gifts, but he was never satisfied with the picture of the moon and stars he had drawn. He’d had to give up on a fifth attempt after he heard his Dad walking around, but luckily he didn’t hear him. The final drawing wasn’t so bad, but still, not good enough.

He had been going to the city Library for months now, first for something to do on the weekends, but it had quickly turned into another reason altogether. 

He gently held the backpack in his arms, and smiled at the librarian at the desk, before quickly making his way to the back of the library, by the desks and research tables. There was no one back here, hardly ever was, but he could hear someone, and he felt giddy. Another deep breath, and Greg nervously leaned out from his shelf to see him.

Greg had accidentally met him two months ago, just before Christmas. He didn’t speak to him then, too nervous and slightly awkward, but enraptured nonetheless. He did finally talk to him before New Years, though, quiet whispers in the Library to the younger, more quiet boy who eagerly accepted his interest in his book on something space related. Greg couldn’t remember, but he had tried to understand. The other boy was more than happy to explain again when they met the next weekend, and Greg was more than happy to listen to him talk on interplanetary flora, his upset at the lack of it. When he had discovered Greg also spoke French, he became so excited, a Librarian assistant had to come and tell them to quieten down as they flipped from English to French in quick (and loud) conversation. He listened when Greg discussed his new football, about how it was super expensive, and he was really lucky to have been given it for Christmas. Greg learned about how he had been saving up for a very expensive seat, a saddle, for this horse his neighbour owned, and had offered to teach him to ride her. He had said his parents offered to buy him it, but he had wanted to save up for it himself. He wanted the horse to know he wanted to ride it enough to save for it. His parents had laughed at him, but Greg thought that was very adult of him.

“I am glad,” he had said to him last weekend “, that I have you here, Gregory. Week days are so boring without you to talk to. Thank you.” and he had smiled and carried on reading his books but Greg was busy dealing with the sudden 1,000 squiggling butterflies in his stomach to notice.

He was sat in his usual spot, today, reading a book in one of the other languages he read, or spoke, or both. Greg took another deep breath, secured his grip on his backpack, straightened his tie, and moved from his hiding place to see the other boy.

“Hello, Mycroft.” 

He looked up in shock, wavy ginger hair pushed away from his round freckled face and grey blue eyes.

“Oh! Gregory! Hello! How are you? It’s not Saturday, why are you here? It is nice to see you, though.” Mycroft said, quickly putting his book down and pushing two other books in the same language further down the table so Greg would be able to sit in his usual seat opposite.  
He looked confused when Greg didn’t move to sit.

“I wanted to give you this.” He put the bag on the floor, and pulled out a present, wrapped in pink paper.

“Oh? Thank you, Gregory. May I open it now?” At Greg’s nervous nod, Mycroft turned to face him and opened the present on his lap. Before Mycroft could even ask about his gifts, Greg jumped in to explain himself.

“You like your horse, so I thought you could give her the apple, and you like the pink and yellow sweets, I remembered you describing them, so you can have those. You’re also clever, so you could use the word search when you are bored, and, uh,” he quickly pulled something from his bag to hide behind his back, before he pulled out an envelope “, this is also for you.”

Mycroft frowned slightly, before his face bled a ferocious red as he recognised what was going on. He nervously took the envelope, and avoiding Greg’s eyes completely as he gently opened it. The drawing of the moon, a few five pointed stars and a small, round shape Mycroft realised was a satellite with a quiet chuckle, was very well drawn, and he smiled at it as he opened the card.

‘Dear Mycroft.  
I am very glad I met you in the Library. You are really clever, and you know lots of languages. You care alot for your horse, and for your books, and I am glad you want to learn so much, and that you want to learn with me. I would like to do more things with you, even if it is just on our weekends. 

From Greg.  
Your Gregory.’ 

A crinkle of plastic, and Mycroft looked up from his heartfelt card to see a single rose, in cellophane heart stamped plastic, being held in front of him.

“I think you’re really great. And I would like you to be my Valentine. Please.”

“Yes, please.” Mycroft quietly replied, and grinned sweetly as Greg let him take the pretty rose from him. He sniffed it, before putting the card flower next to all his other gifts. 

“I - I think you’re very sweet, and you care alot for your family and the things you like. I’m, I’m very happy that that includes me. I don’t have anything for you, I know you don’t like the rhubarb and custard sweets, but-” Suddenly, Greg had his arms full of Mycroft, and quickly returned the hug tightly, a wide smile on his face.

“I hope this is okay.” Mycroft whispered into his neck, and Greg nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, this is nice.”

They held each other for a little while longer, before Greg had to let go.

“Uh, my Mum’s waiting for me in the car, I have to get back for dinner soon.” Mycroft smiled and nodded.

“I best get ready too - I’ll have to ask our housekeeper if he knows where I could get a small vase for my rose.” Greg beamed at the idea of Mycroft keeping the rose as long as he could, and offered to help pack up Mycroft’s new things into his bag. The book and sweets and the apple were gently put into the shoulder bag, but Mycroft stopped Greg from putting the other two in aswell.

“I would like to hold those. Please.” He said shyly, his cheeks as ruddy as Greg had ever seen them, and Greg smiled and nodded, handing them over. Mycroft pulled his bag on carefully, Greg doing the same, before he grabbed the books he had been reading, offering to put them back.

“Thank you.”

Once the three books had been returned, Greg took a deep breath, and grasped his Valentine’s hand as they left the study areas. Mycroft flexed his fingers, and Greg’s heart sank as he let go, but the feeling of Mycroft’s fingers now sinking between his own, closer, tighter, than before was twice as nice. The silent journey out of the library was nice, the two young men with red faces and happy smiles on their lips.

As they reached the veranda outside, Greg smiled.

“Um, I will see you this weekend, I guess, Mycroft.”

“Oh! Um, could, I would-” Mycroft gently let go of his hand, and reached into his trouser pocket to pull out a pen. He carefully pulled the lid off, so as not to squish his prizes in his other hand, and tapped the pen on the back of Greg’s hand. A little confused, he raised it, and watched his Mycroft neatly write a series of numbers on the back of his fist. 

“I am able to answer the phone after my tutored study is over… if you needed to tell me anything before the weekend arrived.” he explained, capping his pen and putting it back in his pocket.

“I will. Definitely.” Greg promised, and pressed his lips to the blushing cheek, which only served to make Mycroft giggle like a girl and turn his entire face pink.

“Greg!” He looked up to see his Mum walking up the steps to the library, but was more preoccupied by the slight squeak of shock next to him, and Mycroft’s sudden hiding behind his back.

“Mum! Don’t scare Mycroft!”

“Oh? Who’s that?”

“He’s my, uh, Mycroft.” Haley laughed.

“Who’s a Mycroft?”

“M-me.” said a quiet voice behind Greg, and Greg grinned.

“Nice to meet you, Mycroft. Are you a friend of Greg’s?”

“Yes. I’m Gregory’s…”

“Gregory?”

“Yeah, he calls me Gregory. I like him saying it.” Greg said earnestly. He had no problem being called his full name by Mycroft, but everyone else said it sarcastically. Mycroft never did.

“Okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, Mycroft. It’s nice to meet Greg’s Valentine.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs Lestrade.” said the boy hidden behind her son, but wavy ginger hair and the red tips of his ear were visible over Greg’s shoulder.

“I need to take Greg home for his dinner now, is someone coming to pick you up, or would you like us to drop you off somewhere?”

“Oh, thank you Mrs Lestrade, but I can walk from here - our housekeeper has said he would show me how to make a hollandaise sauce without it seperating today, so he will be picking me up on our way to the shops in a short while.” Haley raised her eyebrows at the, frankly adorable young man who had appeared behind her son, but smiled nonetheless at the housekeeper employing and hollandaise making Mycroft that had won her Greg so easily.

“Well good luck, Mycroft. Greg, say goodbye and meet me in the car, okay?” 

“Sure Mum.”

“Bye, Mycroft. I’m sure Greg will invite you over soon, so I’ll see you then.”

“Oh, Yes, thank you. Have a good evening Mrs Lestrade!” Mycroft smiled over Greg’s shoulder, and Haley waved to them both as she turned away. The boys began to whisper as she reached the bottom of the steps, and she waited in the car as Greg kissed his cheek one more time, and a blushing Mycroft waved him goodbye. The photo of their first kiss that she had managed to grab, purely through chance and a shortcut to the camera on her phone was sent to her husband, and his romantic gushing on how Lestrade men always went for redheads in reply, made her smile. 

Not as wide as her grinning, love riddled boy who had just sat in her car, but smiling all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> This was origonally written to be entered as part of the Valentine Day calendar ( http://archiveofourown.org/collections/mystradevalentinescalendar ) but I missed the deadline. Ah well, you all did wonderfully so I'll post this when the calendar is finished :)
> 
> Thanks for reading


End file.
